Schemes Or Dreams

The shrine held dear by the Janx was desecrated in the vilest of manners. Their pillars of ancestral worship were no more as the only remaining evidence they ever existed were some deep holes reaching a depth of 200ft. Not even a lantern was left on the walls. Perhaps that would have been kind if there were any walls to speak of. It was now a stack of worthless red bamboos on a snowy mountain.

Seeing the damage, the two new arrivals had looks of disgust on their faces. Their attention was then focused on the patriarch who for once seemed small in the grand scheme of things.

"All of you, get the hell out!" Shouted one of the two, outraged. Both were old with white hair but this one seemed the eldest. The few hairs on his head appeared as though they would fall out at any given moment.